


Reflections Still Look the Same to Me

by affectingly



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 03:02:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/affectingly/pseuds/affectingly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Leonard can still remember the way the metal tasted. Like blood and rust, cold regardless of the hours, days spent in his mouth, against his tongue.</i><br/>--</p><p>After a freak transporter accident left him stranded in the Mirror Universe for a month, Leonard is still dealing with the fallout six months post-rescue.<br/>--</p><p>Please see author's notes for additional warnings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflections Still Look the Same to Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [canistakahari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/canistakahari/gifts).



> This fic deals with the aftermath of sexual assault, torture, and other mirror universe style nastiness. The fic never "shows" those scenes, but they are talked about (sometimes in therapy, sometimes in angry fights). McCoy has PTSD and suffers from panic attacks, both of which are dealt with explicitly. Please use caution when reading this fic!
> 
> ETA: I do want to make it clear that at the end of this fic, Bones does have sex with Jim again. Some have suggested that this reads as the Healing Cock trope, and while I tried to work hard to avoid that trope by showing and working through Bones's recovery process and therapy, I respect that mileage may vary and I don't want to risk triggering anyone. So please keep that in mind when deciding whether to read.

Leonard can still remember the way the metal tasted. Like blood and rust, cold regardless of the hours, days spent in his mouth, against his tongue.

"Bones?"

Leonard gives himself a shake, remembers where he is as his drink slams to his desk. He clears his throat and frowns at Jim. "What."

Jim studies him, expression neutral, eyes sharp. A chill runs down Leonard's spine, and it takes all his mental energy to not slip back. The gag used to make him feel like this; exposed and vulnerable with no means of defense, no way of saying no.

But Leonard can say no. This isn't Kirk. His Jim is different, there's warmth in his blue eyes that never existed in his counterpart's.

The Federation is not the Empire, and when Jim asks him, "What happened, Bones?" Leonard is free to say, "None of your damn business."

Jim doesn't even try to stop him as he walks away.

\--

The ship's counselor, Dr. Elisabeth Cortez, reluctantly put him back on duty only a month after it happened, with the ironclad caveat that he come to weekly sessions and not miss a single one.

Leonard trudges in to her office as he has for the past seventeen weeks and plops down on her couch. "Let's get this colossal waste of time over with. I've got a surgery at 14:00, and I'm not rescheduling."

He's met with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips. "The surgery or your session?"

"Neither -- _both_ , and don't give me that look, Elisabeth!"

She rolls her eyes and sighs, reaching to cue up Leonard's files on her PADD. Her eyes flick back and forth, scanning her notes, and then she says, "You didn't move back in with Captain Kirk like we discussed. At length."

Leonard hoped he could avoid this, that he could push it off toward the end and then run out for the surgery. It was a fool's hope and he knows that.

"It was a busy week," he snaps. "There was that thing on Metribol IV. I didn't have a chance to bring it up with Jim." He waves his hand as if he can bat the whole idea away.

It doesn't work.

"That was four days ago. I thought you told me you were ready, that you wanted to take this step. So, what's going on?"

_I still have nightmares. My jaw still aches. I can't breathe. I can't think. I choke on my own panic, I --_

"Nothing is going on. I told you, it got busy! I had other things going on in Med Bay."

Leonard's always admired Elisabeth. She's been a great addition to the crew since the Battle of Vulcan and Leonard has long considered her blunt nature to be an advantage on his staff. Right now, he could do without it.

"Leonard," she sighs. "If you're not ready, I'm not going to make you and neither is the Captain. But what I do need from you is some personal responsibility. Own your healing process."

Leonard snorts. "Own your healing process," he mutters. Of all the things. He takes a breath and swears he's about to reassure her that it's all a matter of time. There's nothing for her to dig deeper on. It's been nearly six months since a transporter accident left him in a place that looked like home but wasn't at all. He's fine. Healed. Good to go.

Except what comes out of his mouth is, "I still taste it sometimes. I can taste the gag." He feels ill all of a sudden.

Elisabeth doesn't respond right away. She meets his gaze and reaches out slowly, giving his wrist a squeeze when he doesn't pull away. "Okay," she says. "We can work on that."

No judgement, no criticism for hiding it. It's not the first time he's found himself flooded with gratitude where she's concerned.

\--

When Leonard first got back, after his time in medical but before he was cleared for active duty, Scotty was the first one to come visit him. He apologized and he looked as if he cried all day and smelled like he drank all night, too, before showing up. He couldn't even meet Leonard's eyes.

It was the first time he had to reassure someone else over what happened to **him**. It wasn't the last.

He thinks that's why he still hasn't told Jim everything.

Oh, Jim knows enough. He found Leonard, after all, and there were reports and debriefings and medical records that had to be signed off on before they made their way to Starfleet HQ. Jim is his captain and not just his husband.

But Leonard still hasn't told Jim about certain things. How many times he cried. How many times he _came_.

How sometimes in his weakest moments, he let himself pretend it really was Jim and not the sadistic monster wearing his face.

\--

"Doctor." Spock tips his head in acknowledgement and steps aside to allow him entry.

Leonard's only been in Spock and Nyota's quarters twice before this. It still feels a little... alien. He smirks at his own joke and sees Spock lift an eyebrow in question.

Waving him off, Leonard sits down and says, "Nyota around?"

"No, she is visiting with Ensign Rand and Lieutenant Marcus. Should I contact her? If this is an urgent matter, I am certain she --"

"No, no, no. It's fine, Spock. I was just curious. For christ's sake, don't go pulling the woman away from her friends on my account."

"You are her friend, as well," says Spock. "And mine."

Great, now he's getting choked up over things Spock says. He clears his throat. "Be that as it may, I can talk to you just fine without her. Let her be."

"Very well, Doctor. How may I be of service to you?" He folds his hands behind him, spine straight and shoulders back. Leonard can't imagine how that's comfortable.

"I wondered if -- could you tell me how Jim's doing?" His face feels hot and he hopes Spock doesn't notice.

Spock's brows draw together and he tips his head. "The Captain seems to be in excellent health. Has he been exhibiting symptoms I am unaware of?"

"Oh, no. I --" _was just spying on my significant other like he's my grade school crush,_ Leonard thinks bitterly. He runs his hand through his hair and tries again. "That's not exactly what I meant. I just -- has he talked with you at all? About... about me, I mean."

He cringes even as the words come out of his mouth. He'd never want Jim to do this to him, go behind his back and ask his closest friend questions that should have gone directly to Leonard. Or Jim, as the case may be.

Spock studies him for a moment. "Doctor..." he begins.

Leonard huffs. "You know, you _are_ allowed to call me Leonard. Hell, even Leo if it strikes your fancy, seeing as we're friends and all."

There's a brief pause and then he starts again. "Leonard, the Captain does indeed confide in me from time to time, but it is just that: a confidence. I would not betray his any more than I would yours."

Shoulders slumping and feeling rightfully ashamed of himself, Leonard nods. "Of course, I shouldn't have asked. I'm worried, is all," he admits.

"Might I inquire as to the exact nature of your worry?"

"Oh sure," Leonard says, his lungs tightening. "Why not? It's only everything. It's whether or not I'll ever be able to look at Jim and not see someone else. It's how long it will take Jim to get tired of waiting. It's if I can even stay on this damn boat and keep acting as her CMO in good conscience."

"I -- " Spock hesitates, faltering. "I find myself in somewhat of a quandary, Doctor -- Leonard."

"Well damn, not a quandary. What will we do?"

"Your sarcasm, as ever, is charming."

Leonard barks out a harsh laugh. After a moment, he says, "Get to it, Spock."

"I do not wish to break the Captain's trust, but I feel it is imperative for you to know that should you resign your commission and leave the Enterprise, the Captain -- Jim will follow you. He will not give up."

 _He will never stop waiting._ It hangs between them, a threat and a promise.

"Oh," is all Leonard can manage right away.

"As your friend and as Jim's, I can only implore that you speak with him, however difficult that conversation may be."

Leonard swallows and tastes iron.

\--

It's not like they don't speak to one another. They see each other every day. Sometimes they even have meals together. Like today.

Today, they sit across from one another in the mess hall, plates piled with food. Jim asks him questions about his day, and Leonard reminds him to not work too hard. And Jim rolls his eyes, and Leonard tells a joke.

And then Jim laughs. For twenty-three whole seconds everything feels right again.

The problem with being married to someone is that you know them too damn well. And that little honest moment, it's enough to put a crack in Jim's carefully built facade. Leonard can see the strain around his eyes and mouth, the hurt lurking.

Suddenly, nothing tastes right. Every bite Leonard takes is bitter and cold and he stops. "I have to go."

He can't even make himself think up a good excuse. He gets up and leaves and his hands are shaking as he holds his tray.

\--

He has a panic attack that night, lying in bed with the covers kicked off and sweat making his clothes stick to his skin. He claws at the material, trying to get it off. He just needs to be free. He can't move, he can't get away. His heartbeat is too loud in his ears and he can _feel_ the chill of the metal ring inside his mouth.

The door to his quarters opens and he screams, thrashing violently as hands come down to grasp his shoulders, shaking him.

He's not sure how long it takes him to hear Jim's shouts. "Bones! BONES! Look at me, breathe. Just breathe. It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you, not ever again. You're alright. You're good."

Leonard lets out a sob and curls in on himself when he becomes aware of his surroundings, pulling away from Jim's touch. He cries until he can't anymore, and when he's done, Jim is still sitting on the edge of his bed.

Waiting.

He takes a shuddering breath and says, "I need to go home, Jim. Take me home."

It feels like giving up.

"Okay, sweetheart. Okay."

\--

Jim doesn't question him when he unpacks in the spare bedroom instead of their master suite. Leonard's grateful for that.

Elisabeth refers him to another psychiatrist, someone who specializes in 'cases like yours.'

"What, does Starfleet see a lot of people being raped by their partner's psychotic doppelganger?" he asks bitterly.

"No, but sexual assault is not as uncommon as we'd like among our ranks, as you are surely aware. Dr. Shepard is good. Let hir help. Please?"

Leonard can't stand how worried she looks, so he agrees, makes an appointment with Dr. Shepard as soon as they disconnect from the subspace frequency.

He looks up when Jim wanders into the kitchen, picking up an apple and giving Leonard a smile. "Hey Bones, I'm going for a run in the park. You wanna come?"

The hope in his eyes is too much to say no to, and at least this is something Leonard can give him. It'll be nice to be out around other people.

\--

The air is salty and cool, chapping his cheeks and lips as they jog through the same park they've been in a hundred times when in the Academy. It's nice, falling into this again, reliving memories that aren't tainted by terror and guilt.

Their breath puffs in the late January air, just cool enough to burn his lungs every time he inhales. He gets lost in his own head, counting the police cameras mounted in the trees. Funny, he never noticed them before, but now they feel like all that keeps his panic at bay when he realizes they're alone on the path.

They don't keep the tears away, though.

He stops suddenly, and Jim slows and circles around. "Bones?"

"I'm afraid to be alone with you," he gasps, the confession leaving his lips without permission. He's never felt the absence of the gag so acutely before. The words are just out there, hanging between them. "I lock my door at night. I can't -- I'm sorry, Jim. I'm so sorry."

Leonard squeezes his eyes shut and crouches down, making himself small, taking slow breaths.

Jim is quiet for a long time, and he's relieved. Finally, Leonard hears him shuffling closer, and when he opens his eyes and looks, Jim sits in front of him, folding his legs and keeping his hands in his lap. His eyes are rimmed in red, but his voice is steady. "You never have to apologize to me. Not ever, not for what happened to you. None of this is your fault."

"Elisabeth told me I needed to own my healing process." He hopes Jim can hear the joke in his voice, beyond how raw it is.

A laugh bursts from Jim, shocked and too-loud. "Sounds like something she would say."

Leonard laughs, too. He's not sure how to make any of this better.

After a beat, Jim says, "You know, you screamed every time I walked in the room those first few days. Chapel finally banned me from even trying until you were ready to leave Med Bay."

It makes his heart ache for Jim, knowing how that must have killed him. Leonard shakes his head, the memory fuzzy and hard to grasp. Most of what happened in the days following his rescue is a blur. "I'm sorry," he says again, shrugging. "I don't know what else to say."

"Whatever, anything, everything," says Jim in a rush. "Just please don't stop talking to me."

The desperation in Jim's voice is obvious, and Leonard nods, doesn't even have to think about it. "I won't, I promise."

\--

Leonard looks around Shepard's office, taking in the clean lines and silver accents.

"So, you've been briefed, I take it?' he asks. He really doesn't feel like explaining the other universe to someone else, the existence of their mirror alternates.

Shepard tips hir head. "I have, and Dr. Cortez forwarded her notes to me, with your consent of course."

Leonard rolls his eyes. He knows how patient confidentiality works. "Of course."

"Please, have a seat, Doctor McCoy." Ze gestures to the couch and Leonard sits, but not without making a show of it, taking his time getting comfortable, putting his feet up on the pristine glass table in front of him.

It doesn't ruffle Shepard's feathers in the least.

Leonard makes a sour face and says, "You can drop the 'Doctor.' Just 'McCoy' is fine for in here. You're the doctor."

"Whatever you're most comfortable with," ze agrees.

Leonard wonders when exactly someone being agreeable became so damn annoying.

"Listen," he says. "I don't mean to waste your time, but I'm only here because one of these days when I finally get over this, I'd like to be able to return to my post on the Enterprise. And I'm not fool enough to believe that won't require someone like you signing off on it."

Shepard levels him with an unwavering stare. "McCoy, I'm sorry if no one has told you this before, but you're never going to 'get over this.'"

It's a damn suckerpunch, straight to his gut, knocking the wind out of him. "Excuse me?"

"Usually, I try to allow my patients their fantasies. It can be a useful therapeutic tool," ze says. "But believing one of these days you're going to wake up and be _over_ what happened to you is not only not useful, it's harmful."

Leonard's heart is racing, trying to escape the hampering confines of his chest. His esophagus keeps spasming, and his lungs feel as if they're filling with... metal, steel and iron, so cold it burns.

Sweat prickles the back of his neck and he leans forward, pressing his face into his hands, elbows on his knees. His vision goes dark around the edges, everything blurs.

He loses track of time until Shepard's voice starts filtering through again.

"...two, three, count with me. Each breath, five, six. That's good. In through your nose, out through your mouth."

When his breathing returns to normal and Leonard can focus again, Shepard reaches out slowly. "Is it okay if I touch you?"

Leonard eyes hir but eventually nods. Ze places a hand on the back of his neck, and Leonard can feel his anxiety easing. He blinks, and Shepard gives him a small smile.

"What side does the Betazoid come from?" Leonard asks absently, trying to distract himself.

"Maternal grandmother," replies Shepard. After a moment, ze adds, "I'm sorry my words affected you so severely. I was given to understand from Dr. Cortez's notes that you were further along in your therapy."

"I am," he insists. And then he thinks about how he's here on Earth and not on the Enterprise, how he dragged Jim down with him but can barely stay in the same house as him, to say nothing of ever being in the same bedroom again. "I... was. I thought I was, but I keep..."

Shepard watches him patiently, waiting him out.

Leonard takes a deep breath, chest shuddering. "When I was there, the Mirror Universe as Starfleet has codenamed it, there was another me. He spent all his time in the Med Bay, from what I could gather. I never saw him. But I got the impression that he was a little... off. Too unpredictable for Kirk to fuck with. But not me."

Laughing bitterly, he swallows past the nausea and pushes on. "I was like a gift wrapped surprise, special delivery. I was soft and easy to control, and he had no use for anything I had to say. He kept a gag in me the whole time. This terrible metal thing that kept my mouth open for him to use. He never took it out. Kept me alive through supplements he injected with a hypospray. I still taste the metal sometimes, when my anxiety is at its worst."

He's never said most of that before. When he gave his report, it was bare bones, the least he could get away with sharing. Ten minutes with this stranger, and it all comes spilling out.

He read somewhere once that it helps for a victim's counselor to not know the person outside of a patient-doctor relationship. Something about how it's easier on the victim when the therapist doesn't know what they were like before, who they should still be.

"And when you say 'Kirk', you're referring to the alternate version of your husband, Captain James T. Kirk, correct?" asks Shepard, firm but not cold.

"Alternate version," spits Leonard. "People keep saying that, even me, like I went to the store and accidentally got the one with green eyes instead of blue. 'Alternate version' cannot even begin to describe the differences between them, except in looks. They look exactly the same, every detail. So yeah, the _alternate version_ of my husband raped me for a month, but when I look at Jim now, I can't get my brain to remember that it wasn't him who used me."

"Have you told your husband all of this?"

"No, but he knows, more or less." He accepts the glass of water Shepard hands him, gulping it down.

"Which is it? More or less?" ze asks.

Leonard scowls. "Fine, **less** , but who's that hurting? Does he really need to know every horrible detail?"

"I don't know. Does he? It's your story. You get to choose whether you share it or not, but you still have to have some kind of conversation with him," says Shepard, folding hir hands in hir lap. "You're allowed to grieve and heal and figure out how to go on living on your own terms, McCoy, but Captain Kirk was an important part of your life --"

"IS," snaps Leonard. "Jim _is_ an important part of my life."

"Okay, then you need to figure out how to reconnect with him, share something with him."

"You don't know Jim." Leonard snorts. "I told him... I admitted I was still afraid to be alone with him, so he hired a maid to come during the day and do all the chores and the laundry. Half the time the guy doesn't even have anything to do! He plays video games with me or goes golfing with Jim. Just so we're never alone together! Jim thinks he needs to make everything right, so if I tell him half the stuff rolling around in my head, who knows what he'll do next."

"You know, setting limits can be a thing you do when you talk to him," ze says dryly.

"Right. Limits. Have you not read the man's file? Even what's on public record. You do that, and when I come in next week, we can discuss these so-called limits."

\--

After his third session with Dr. Shepard, he gets home a little early to see Peter-the-Maid heading out the door with empty grocery bags. Three weeks on Earth, and Leonard's pretty sure he spends more time with Peter than he does with Jim, and yet he feels a sudden surge of panic at seeing him leaving.

"Oh, hi Dr. McCoy! You guys are out of… well, everything. I guess I should have gone to the market yesterday instead of letting you talk me into a Halo tournament."

Leonard snorts. "Yeah, I suspect so. But don't sweat it. Jim in there?"

"Yeah, Mr. Kirk is on the comm. I'll be back soon. Any special requests?"

"No -- oh, wait. Can you see if the bakery has any fresh pecan pies? They're Jim's favorites."

Peter grins. "Sure thing, Dr. McCoy."

Leonard goes inside and unwinds his scarf, hanging it by the door, and he's still unbuttoning his coat when he hears voices drifting from Jim's bedroom -- _their; it's still their bedroom_.

Leonard pauses. He should announce his presence. He should not stand here stock still and strain to hear what's being said. And he's about to, he swears he is, when he hears his name.

"How's Leonard doing?"

"Okay, he's..." Jim lets out a sigh. "That's not true. He's not okay, but I don't really know much else. He won't talk to me about anything more serious than the weather or if we're out of milk. We went running the other day and he had a panic attack, right there in the middle of the park for no reason I could see. And he -- he admits to me he's _scared of being alone with me_ , Carol. What am I supposed to do with that?"

"I don't know. I -- Has he started seeing anyone?"

"Yeah, someone named Shepard that Cortez recommended. He's at his appointment right now. But he was seeing Cortez for _months_ on the ship, and look where that got us. I'm grounded and someone else is captaining my ship and my crew."

"That someone else is Spock, Jim. And half the time he still calls himself the Acting Captain. You know your chair is waiting for you when this is all over," she says.

"Right, when it's all over. Except I don't see that happening any time soon, and I don't know how to help. Every time I try, I'm pretty sure I just make it worse, and I don't even know why. The official report says that bastard tortured him for information on the Federation, but when I found Bones in that room, he... "

Jim breaks off, and it takes a second for Leonard to realize that he's fallen back against the door and it's talking at him in a cool, clipped tone, trying to figure out if he wants out or if he's just an idiot leaning on a door.

Jim appears in the hall, and they stare at each other for a long time before Jim clears his throat and says, "Carol, I have to go. Tell everyone I said hi."

"Oh, okay. Talk to you soon. My best to Leonard."

The line goes silent and Jim shoves his hands in his pockets. "How did it go today?"

"Why do you want to know? So you can report it all to our friends behind my back?" asks Leonard, but even as he says it, he knows he's being unfair. It's just that he doesn't really care, either.

Jim's face falls and his shoulders slump, and Leonard feels sick at how broken he looks. "I'm allowed to talk to my friends about my life and the things I'm going through."

"It's my life, too!" he shouts, stomach burning with anger he can't explain or justify.

"Oh, so _now_ it's our life," mutters Jim.

Leonard can feel the anger swallowing him, spreading through him like acid that finally ate its way through the lining of his gut. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

Jim holds his furious gaze for fifteen, thirty seconds, a minute. Finally he sighs, "Nothing. Just... Nothing. I'm sorry you heard that conversation with Carol, but I'm not sorry I had it. I get to be upset about what's happened too. I don't expect you to be my support system. I know I'm supposed to be that for you right now, but that doesn't mean I don't need one."

"Is that what this is?" snaps Leonard. He can taste the metal on his tongue, can feel his jaw starting to ache, and he clings to the rage to push past it. "An obligation? You're 'supposed' to support me, so here you are, the noble Captain Kirk _grounded_ because his spouse is too goddamn crazy! It must be so hard for you, the martyr that you are, always making someone else's tragedy about you."

Jim's shaking as he replies, "Bones, you're upset, and you're saying things you don't mean. We should--"

"DON'T TELL ME WHAT I MEAN," snarls Leonard, irrational in his sudden fury, unprepared for the way it's consuming him without warning. "I know exactly what I'm saying. People die, and it's all about what it means to YOU! Not that THEY lost THEIR life. Same story two times in a row: First your dad and then Pike."

"Shut the fuck up," says Jim, fingers curling into fists at his side.

Leonard wishes he would make him, and he has to talk around the phantom pressure of the gag to keep going.

"I guess I should feel lucky the worst thing that happened to me is getting fucked by your evil double! I'd hate to think what you'd do if I'd died over there. The entire Federation would be embroiled in an interdimensional war because you were _sad_ , to hell with how many people have to die to make you feel better."

Jim's face goes slack with shock. If Leonard could actually think, he might care that Jim's eyes are bloodshot and he's gone pale, the color drained from his face. "I should --" Jim starts, voice too unsteady. He swallows and then continues, "I should go. I'll be back later."

He's not meeting Leonard's eyes anymore. Leonard should quit now. He's already crossed so many lines, but it's like he's not even in control of his body anymore. "Oh good, your other favorite reaction: running away. I should call your mother to commiserate."

"Go to hell," hisses Jim, going around Leonard and straight out the door without another word.

"Already been!" shouts Leonard to his retreating back before the door slides shut.

Leonard doesn't even make it to the toilet before he drops to his knees and throws up his entire breakfast.

\--

To: Lt. Commander L.H. McCoy

From: Commander M.A. Shepard

Subject: Re: EMERGENCY APPOINTMENT

> Yes, I can work you in at 09:00 tomorrow morning.

> See you then,

> Dr. Shepard

\--

Leonard doesn't stay home that night. He can't. He checks himself into a hotel on the waterfront and sits on the balcony in the cold, watching the waves crash into the bay and the stars wink above him.

He falls asleep at some point and wakes up shivering, a kink in his neck and and the concrete imprinted on his cheek. The sun in only just coming up, gold and orange and pink dusting the horizon in streaks behind him.

It takes him all of five minutes to realize what he needs to do.

\--

He gets back from his emergency appointment and finds Jim on the couch with the pecan pie on his lap, half already gone, the holoscreen blaring. Jim looks up at him with a guarded, wary stare. "Computer: Mute. You came home."

"Yeah. Is Peter around?"

"No. Gave him the day off. Guess it's just you and me."

Leonard sighs. "I'm sorry."

Jim doesn't tell him it's unnecessary this time. "Okay."

"I have something for you, if you want it." Reaching into his pocket, Leonard takes out the PADD he got from Dr. Shepard. "This is everything. I went to see my doctor today and we collected everything I'd already said about it, and… I added a few more things. So it's all there, every detail, everything I remember about my time over there."

He sets the PADD down on the table in front of Jim, and adds, "You don't have to read it, though. I just… wanted you to have the option. You deserve that much."

Jim only stares back at him, and after a moment, Leonard goes to his room and closes the door, resisting the urge to lock it behind him.

He doesn't know when Jim starts reading, but he knows when he's finished. He hears a crash out in the living room, glass shattering.

When he doesn't hear anything more for a while, he leaves his room. He just wants to make sure Jim is okay, that he hasn't hurt himself.

He finds Jim kneeling down on the floor, picking up pieces of glass and throwing them into a recycling bin. It takes Leonard a moment to figure out exactly what's happened, but then he realizes Jim must have thrown the PADD at the shelf in the corner.

It was the one with medals and holopics, one of the two of them on their wedding day, another of Spock and Nyota over for Hanukkah three years ago, and a few different ones of Jim and Leonard's friends and families. Some from their childhoods, other pictures are from more recent visits; a blend of Kirks and McCoys, all happy to be there. Their family. Their life together.

The shelf itself was an anniversary present, an antique with real plates of glass on each level. Personally, Leonard always thought it was kind of hideous, but he remembered how much Jim admired it when they were at the antique shop. So he went back and purchased it, had it delivered for their Fifth Anniversary. And now it's in pieces on the floor.

Silently, he turns and goes back to his room. He finds his shoes, slips them on, and heads back out, grabbing the vacuum - a state of the art monstrosity that utilizes transporter tech. It actually makes him laugh to think about.

"Here," he says, coming up behind Jim. "Let me get it. You'll end up cutting yourself."

He thinks Jim's going to refuse him, but then he nods and stands up, backing away from the mess.

"Help me set it for glass?" asks Leonard, motioning toward the machine.

Jim huffs. "How many times have you promised me you're going to read the manual on this thing?"

"And I will, just as soon as I have a moment," he replies, the words automatic. It's a familiar argument, comforting for its blandness.

Jim pushes a few buttons, and the thing comes on. It doesn't take long for it to beep, the light turning green to indicate no more glass particles are found. Leonard turns it off and sets it aside, and then they both bend to pick up all the keepsakes.

They're almost done when Leonard says, "I didn't mean any of what I said yesterday. I knew it would hurt you and I wanted to hurt you."

"I know," says Jim. "I knew it when you were saying it, but I couldn't stop myself from getting angry right back, rising to your bait."

"A lesser man might have punched me in the mouth." It's supposed to be a joke, but Leonard knows it'll fall flat.

Jim drops the picture of Sam and Aurelan and curses under his breath, reaching to grab it again. "I would never do something like that."

"I know that," snaps Leonard. He groans, sitting back and staring at the ceiling. "Don't you think I've been telling myself that over and over again? That _you_ wouldn't do any of the things that Kirk did?"

"Well!" says Jim, standing up and stomping to the kitchen to grab the lid for the big turkey roaster. He kneels back down and starts transferring the pile of holopics and memorabilia into its upside down cradle. "I just… want to make it better, Bones."

Leonard stares, watching in something that might be shock, and then he chokes out a sudden, sharp laugh. "I -- I'm sorry, I'm not… It's not at YOU," he babbles, shaking his head. "I mean it IS, but not for wanting to help. You're… You bought that damn idiotic roaster and then never used it. And I kept telling myself every year if you didn't find a use for it, I was going to throw it out, and you'd never even notice. And now you're -- and so now it has to stay."

Jim's eyes widen, and he watches Leonard as he laughs and laughs. He laughs until he cries, and that's when Jim moves forward. There's a brief moment of hesitation when he first reaches out, but as soon as Leonard pushes into the embrace it tightens, arms wrapped all the way around him.

Leonard's pretty sure he gets tears and snot all over Jim's shirt, but Jim never complains.

\--

He moves back into their bedroom a week later, but he still needs a pillow between them. Leonard wishes it were as simple as having one good cry, everything back to normal, but it's not. He doesn't even know what normal looks like anymore.

Jim starts teaching at the Academy, and Leonard keeps going to see Dr. Shepard. When Leonard has panic attacks, he tells Jim what triggered them, and when Jim gets frustrated with Leonard, he doesn't hide it. It works, more or less.

Leonard snorts as he grabs an onion and three tomatoes from the windowsill. He can practically hear Dr. Shepard in his head. _Which is it, McCoy? More or less?_

He sets the vegetables down on the cutting board and goes to work on them, chopping them up for homemade marinara. He never really considered himself the type for stay-at-home domestic bliss, but he knows he's not ready to go back to work and this passes the time.

Jim gets home at precisely 18:05 like he always does, flinging his jacket onto the hook and sweeping into the kitchen. "Oh man, that smells amazing. Holy shit, I could eat everything. I'm so hungry."

Leonard rolls his eyes. "You're always hungry. Go wash up, and then you can get the salad ready."

"You're aware that I'm just going to use the synthesizer, right?"

"Yes, and I'm prepared to ignore that in favor of you eating something that's green."

"Touché," says Jim. He gives Leonard a peck on the cheek and wanders away to their bedroom.

Leonard's heart is racing and he reaches up to touch the spot where Jim's lips just were. Kirk never kissed him, not once. He bit and licked and sucked, but he never kissed Leonard. That never occurred to him before.

He's still standing there, the boiling pot of noodles overflowing, when Jim comes back in.

"Fuck," swears Jim, rushing over. He turns the burner off and moves the noodles away, and then he looks at Leonard. "Oh fuck," he repeats. "I didn't mean to… I'm sorry!"

Leonard shakes his head. "No, it's… it's fine. _I'm_ sorry. It just took me by surprise. I didn't… He never kissed me."

Jim blinks at him. "What?"

"I just realized I haven't kissed anyone since before it happened," he says, feeling a little dazed. "That morning when we got up, and you had coffee breath and I was rushing to get ready, and you caught me around the waist and kissed me. The was the last time anyone kissed me in eight months, until just now."

"Bones," breathes Jim, and it sounds like a plea and an apology all at once.

Leonard nods, and Jim closes in on him in between one heartbeat and the next, his hands coming up to cup Leonard's face. Jim kisses him this time like it's the only chance he'll ever get.

\--

That night, he's in bed with Jim, and they're kissing. Everything is better than it's been for so long. God, he never thought he'd have this again. He could kiss Jim forever. Except… except he can't. He can't kiss back anymore. He opens his eyes and suddenly he's staring at Kirk, and the cruel chill of steel is forcing his mouth wide.

He jerks awake with a shout, sitting bolt upright, gasping for breath.

"Bones?" asks Jim, already sounding more alert than Leonard feels. "What do you need?"

"Water," he says immediately, hands clutching at the sheets, sweat trickling down his spine.

Jim's up and out of their room in a flash, and back just as quickly. He hands the glass over and Leonard gulps it gratefully, trying to wash away the taste he can't ever seem to get rid of.

"Do you want to talk about it?" asks Jim after a while.

Leonard shrugs. "I guess. Just another nightmare."

"The gag again?"

"Yeah," he says, setting the glass on the side table.

Things are quiet for a while, and Leonard almost starts to drift again.

"When I was 13, I kept having nightmares about what must have happened to my dad when he died," says Jim.

Leonard frowns, wondering where Jim is going with this. "Oh yeah?"

Jim hums affirmation, then continues on. "After a while, my mom finally gave me a copy of the recording from my dad's last moments, thought it must be better than what kept happening in my head. I listened to it every night before I went to sleep for almost a year. It was the only thing the kept the nightmares away."

"Too bad my nightmares are reality," says Leonard.

"No, actually they're not anymore. What happened is over, but your brain won't accept that. It won't accept your new reality."

"Okay, fine. What's your point, Jim?" he snaps, tired and frustrated.

"My point is that… I think sometimes, even if what's real is scary, it's better than the nightmares our brain keeps supplying."

Leonard can't think of a damn thing to say to that, so he says nothing.

\--

"I think Jim wants to gag me," he says, apropos of nothing.

Dr. Shepard's face gives nothing away, but ze clears hir throat before asking, "And how do you feel about that?"

"Well, obviously, it's a terrible idea."

"Is it?" Shepard asks in that bland way that means ze is trying to be neutral.

"Yes," snaps Leonard.

"Okay," ze says.

Leonard blows out a sigh of relief. He was sure Shepard would have something to…

"Why do you think it's a terrible idea?"

"Well, for STARTERS, it could trigger a panic attack! It could also make me associate Kirk even more strongly with Jim. It could scare me off of ever wanting to have sex with my husband again! And in case you haven't been tuning in for the past few weeks: that is a goal I very much have."

"Having sex or being scared off?" asks Shepard, tone as dry as a desert.

"One of these days, someone is going to report you to the board, and I'm going to laugh," he says, crossing his arms.

"No, someone won't, but no, you wouldn't," ze says easily. "Back to your point: any number of things could trigger a panic attack, but you said yourself you haven't had one for a while. Opening up to Jim has seemed to help a lot, and we've done a lot of work in your appointments."

"Okay, but what about the rest of the things I listed?" he presses, narrowing his eyes. "Don't you think it might make me think of Kirk when I'd really rather not?"

"McCoy, you're going to think of what happened to you regardless. I'm not pushing Jim's idea, but I'm not saying it's terrible either. It has merit: replacing bad memories and experiences with good ones. It's a valid therapeutic technique."

"So, I'm just supposed to screw my way to a better state of mind?"

"Your words, not mine," says Shepard. "And I think it's worth allowing yourself to consider, maybe talk with your husband a little more about it."

Leonard stares at hir. "How do you even have a damn license?"

"Time's up," ze says, smiling.

\--

Jim takes the first year cadets out for their survival training and he's gone for a week.

In that time, Leonard manages to get himself on the rotation at Starfleet Medical and he only makes two cadets cry on his first day. He can't decide if that's good or bad, so he calls it a draw, and teaches himself how to make pecan pie from scratch.

Friday rolls around and Jim gets home covered in dust with at least six rips in his shirt and pants. He looks like he went rolling in a mudbath with a velociraptor, and he's grinning from ear to ear.

Leonard gets that overwhelming sensation he always gets every time he remembers why he fell in love with Jim.

"Ugh, you sunshine-y asshole," he grumbles as Jim leans in and gives him a kiss.

"At your service. You miss me?"

Leonard's throat tightens unexpectedly. He croaks, "Yes."

Jim gives him another kiss on the cheek and then wanders off to take a shower. By the time he gets back, Leonard's made up his mind.

"We can try the gag tonight," he says, cheeks burning as he pulls a pie out of the oven. He hopes the heat hides his blush.

\--

It's not what he thought it would be.

But it's not _not_ what he thought it would be, either.

Jim gets an old tie and knots it in the middle three times.

"I don't want you to tie me up, okay?" says Leonard, eyeing the gag.

"Okay." Jim sits next to him, the bed dipping with his weight. "And if you want the gag out, if you want anything to stop, just snap your fingers, okay? And I'll check. I won't let anything bad happen to you, Bones."

"I know." He lets out a breath.

Jim holds the gag to his mouth, and Leonard lets him put it in. His heart hammers so hard, he's sure this is it. He's going to start spiralling. He's going to lose it. He's --

Jim kisses his cheek and then his mouth, right next to the gag, and Leonard remembers to breathe.

They undress, and Jim helps him. All the while, he kisses Leonard; his face and throat, his shoulders and clavicle, across his chest and down his stomach. He lifts each of Leonard's hands and kisses his palms.

The gag is clamped tight between his teeth, but it doesn't taste of metal or blood and it's not cold. It tastes like clean laundry, like cloth, and Leonard can smell the faint scent of Jim's cologne on the fabric. He clings to that as Jim pushes him down on the bed, spreads Leonard out beneath him.

"I missed you so much," whispers Jim, his hands warm as they slide down his sides, across his hips and thighs.

Unthinkingly, Leonard tries to respond, but it comes out muffled. He sucks in a sharp breath through his nose, tears stinging his eyes.

"Do you want me to stop, Bones? Do you want the gag out?"

Leonard shuts his eyes tight, but he shakes his head no.

"Are you sure?"

He nods.

"Okay."

His lashes are wet when he blinks his eyes open, watching as Jim finishes making his way down Leonard's body. When he kisses the head of Leonard's cock, he groans.

He closes his eyes again and lets himself drift on the feeling of Jim's mouth on him, the wet heat as his cock slides past Jim's open lips. He gets lost in the sweet suctions, the rhythmic bob of Jim's head. He forgot how good it can be.

Not blowjobs specifically. Just… sex. Sex without shame or pain or guilt. Sex where the only real objective is to make your partner come.

Which Jim seems to be keeping in mind, his fingers teasing behind Leonard's balls, pressing at his perineum, rubbing at his hole. Leonard groans, pushing into Jim's touch.

Everything feels tight and too-close, his orgasm balancing on a knife's edge, but still just out of reach. He whimpers, and Jim's fingers disappear only to return slick with lubricant.

It takes him a couple of tries, but finally Jim eases his finger inside, stretching Leonard slowly, carefully. The guttural sound Leonard makes would be humiliating if he could think enough to care.

Jim lifts off and away from his cock, just long enough to mutter, "Come on, sweetheart. Come for me."

And that's all it takes as Jim's mouth slides over his cock again. Leonard arches up and comes, squeezing around Jim's finger, Jim's tongue drawing every last spark out him.

He's panting raggedly, the gag damp with spit, every muscle in his body relaxed. Jim shifts, pulling his finger out of Leonard, and then his mouth is right next to his ear. "Do you want me to take the gag out yet?"

Leonard groans, shaking his head.

"It's okay then if I fuck you just like this, relaxed and warm and looking so perfect?"

He jerks his head up and down, biting down on the gag to keep a whine from escaping.

Jim kisses him again, on the tips of his nose and his chin, his fingers returning between Leonard's legs. He works him open, one finger at a time, steadily stretching Leonard until he's panting and squirming.

When Jim's cock pushes inside him, Leonard lets out a choked sob, his arms going around Jim's neck and shoulders, his legs hooking around his hips.

He holds Jim close, and he loses track of what's happening for a while, floating in some other place. Every thrust Jim gives him is just right, keeping him suspended in pleasure without pushing him over. His own cock keeps rubbing against Jim's sweat slick stomach, making heat coil under his skin.

Leonard doesn't think he'll come again, and he doesn't care. He just needs this, needs Jim inside of him, filling him up, making him whole. He missed this more than he ever realized.

When Jim's thrusts go clumsy and hurried, his lips slide against Leonard's jaw, and he squirms a hand between their bodies, quick and sloppy, and manages to drag Leonard along with him into orgasm.

Leonard has no idea how long they lay like that, sticky and sated. Eventually, Jim gets up and unties the gag before he disappears into the bathroom. He returns with a cloth and cleans them both up, and then he gathers Leonard in his arms and kisses him again, this time finally on the mouth.

"Thank you," mumbles Leonard. He's so tired, he's not even sure that he's not dreaming this.

"For what?"

"For being you and not him," he says, pressing his face into Jim's throat.

Jim's arms tighten around him, and Leonard sleeps.

\--

Their Eighth Anniversary comes fourteen months after a transporter took him to another dimension instead of another planet. (It still bothers him that they lost their Seventh to the aftermath.)

Leonard gets Jim a new tacky antique shelf, and Jim gets him an audiobook version of the vacuum cleaner instructions.

...and a vacation in Ireland.

Which Jim thinks makes him the clear winner of their annual Anniversary Gift Competition, until Leonard hands over his PADD.

"What's this?"

"Just read it."

Jim clears his throat and begins, "To: Lieutenant Commander L.H. McCoy, blahblahblah, we gladly accept your request for reinstatement to active duty. Further, we would like to offer you the position of Chief Medical Officer aboard NCC-1701, USS Enterprise… Bones?"

Leonard takes a sip of champagne and tastes nothing but the sweet fizz against his tongue. He grins. "Happy Anniversary, Jim."

\--

End

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, thanks to Aya and Chloe for auditioning the beginning of this when I wasn't sure what the hell I was writing, and thanks x a MILLION to Sarah for the beta once I was finished!
> 
> Second, Title from Florence + the Machine's "Never Let Me Go," and I named Dr. Shepard after Shepard from Mass Effect (b/c it's Helen's favorite game).
> 
> Third, (AND MOST IMPORTANT :D) this fic is for Helen on the occasion of her birthday. For you I write 8k words of angst in two days. I couldn't find a ditch. I hope MU works. <3


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